


cosmic remembrance

by orphan_account



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 02:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: again.





	cosmic remembrance

when he wakes, he can’t breathe.

he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, _he can’t breathe._  his hands are on his neck, grasping and clawing at the invisible weight pressed against it. desperate, his hands wrench onto the thick blankets covering him, throwing them off in a fit of _panic_. he shoots up in his bed.

he can breathe. grasping at his neck, balling his shirt into his hands, he can _breathe_.

he sucks in breath after breath, each one a cool reprieve for his throat — it’s on _fire_. when his heart has slowed to normal, he cracks his eyes open. nighttime.

the balcony door is wide open, he notes. the curtains on the windows don’t seem to react at all to the fierce wind blowing from the open door, which he doesn’t note.

he stands, carefully. he looks around the room; plain, white, empty. barren of anything that might give an indication of what kind of person he was. his interests, his dreams, his loves, his vices. barren of humanity. it looks as it always does. he peels his gaze from his desk and back to the balcony. he walks.

there are a paltry few steps between the bed and the balcony, but each step he takes feels sluggish. dragging, drawling, like someone’s set the speed of his life to .05.

he’s walking through a dream, vivid and hazy and painted in colors of blue, black, and purple that morph into red, red, red.

he’s walking through an ocean, all relentless waves and an unending shoreline that never, never gets closer.

he’s walking through heaven, up steps that wind forever with seemingly no end, no destination, no landing in sight.

he’s walking through hell, pitch black and eye-straining red at the same time, fatally cold and heated to a breaking point.

he's walking through purgatory, blind and unknowing, aimlessly wandering forever.

he’s at the balcony. he steps out onto it, his feet hitting the cold floor and abandoning the softness and warmth of the carpet. he reaches for the railing, holding it, grasping it, feeling the sting of cold metal against his warm hands.

_“fancy seein’ you around here.”_

he startles at the voice. akira leans against the railing at the other end of the balcony, staring out into the inky dark of the night sky. there isn’t a landscape ahead of them.

akira turns, and when he looks at him, every part of his body sinks.

_“i could say the same for you.”_

akira is miles away from him, far beyond anywhere he could ever think of reaching. and yet, at the same time, he’s mere steps away from him.

 _“what happened?”_ akira’s voice cuts through the night, the only sound he can hear. the only sound, he thinks, he’s ever _cared_ about hearing.

_“i don’t know.”_

they've barely exchanged any words, but already, akira seems closer. less distant. less of a concept that he’d never get to the depths of. more of a person longing for the same thing he is, aching for the same things he’s ached for almost his entire life. he knew he was right.

he speaks again. _“i’m sorry.”_

he doesn’t need to look at akira to know that he’s smiling.

_“figured enough. don’t worry about it — if neither of us has a goddamn clue about what's going on, there’s nothing to be sorry for.”_

a smile creeps at his lips. he doesn’t fight it, not like he normally would have. he turns.

akira’s right next to him now. shoulder pressed against his, warm and moving and breathing and _alive_. akira doesn’t mention anything about it. neither does he.

_“i knew you’d be somewhere.”_

akira’s pressed against him now, hugging him tighter and tighter and tighter and _tighter_. now, when akira smiles, he can feel it against his chest. he can feel the tears starting to sink into the material of his shirt.

_“there’s nothing to cry about. we all knew that this would happen.”_

despite himself, he buries his hands in akira’s hair, stroking it and pulling him closer and closer and closer and _closer._   _“we all knew.”_

akira’s face is in front of his now, hands cupping his own face and gazing at him like he’s the whole  _universe_. there are still tears in akira’s eyes. there are still tears in akira’s eyes when he kisses him as they’ve always meant to. lips crashing, needy and wanting after being lost for so long. _warmth_. there are tears in his eyes when he knows that this is _right_ , that this is what’s _supposed_ to happen.

lifetimes burn out like a match, swallowed in the ocean of time and beat on by the waves of change into futility and fruitlessness. but no matter how many matches burn out, no matter how many waves snuff out the dying flames, they would find each other again. they would make their matches light for years, decades, eons; make them burn into every lifetime and every timeline that would grant them mercy.

_“you’re crying, too, ryo.”_

akira looks at him now, looks at  _ryo_. he smiles. _“you’re crying, too.”_

wordlessly, he turns away from him and back towards the railing, looking out over the balcony. their hands are clasped in each other now, even as neither of them looks at the other. it’s an acknowledgment, a reassurance, that they’d both be there. that they both _are_ there.

the moons are full in the night sky, a caricature compared to the moon of the lifetimes behind them. they burn brighter than anything else in this world.

**Author's Note:**

> me: has only ever written fic for a lighthearted sports anime  
> also me: what if......................................................................i wrote something for devilman crybaby
> 
> i watched the entire season yesterday and in a fit of mournful disarray i wrote my only devilman fic in like half an hour
> 
> thank you for reading!! i'd love to hear any feedback/criticism!


End file.
